


Looking Glass

by Snowyirees



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Corporate, Baby!Bambam, Domestic Fluff, Lawyer!Mark, M/M, Not In Chronological Order, Parents!Markbum, ceo!jaebum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2018-10-11 11:45:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10464168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowyirees/pseuds/Snowyirees
Summary: From ties and conference rooms to baby bottles and last loves - ten snippets of Jaebum and Mark's life through the years.





	1. sing me to sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Minor hints of past child trauma.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Mark it isn't truly home until Jaebum is there.

  
Mark wakes up to the tell tale weight of Nora walking on his chest and the ticklish feeling of her whiskers brushing against his cheek. His hand, out of instinct, reaches out to pat the soft fur of her head, eyes blinking open when she presses a cold nose against his neck. The room is dark, the only light trickling in from across the hall - from the Baymax nightlight sitting proudly on Bambam's table, a present from Jackson for his last birthday - and all Mark can really make out is Nora's small silhouette as she burrows into the half circle of his arms. It's a chilly spring night and Mark welcomes the warmth, curling in on himself as Nora's ear flickers against his chin and her purring lulls him back to sleep.

But just as Mark is about to drift asleep, breathing evening out softly in the darkness of the room, his brain finally catches up to the fact that Nora is curled up next to him. She is next to him instead of next to Bambam. The thought is so disconcerting Mark snaps his head up, moving so abruptly he ends up startling the kitten, who jumps awake and looks around bewildered. Mark stares at the distinct shape of her ears in confusion, eyes still hazy with remnants of sleep, and wonders why she suddenly decided to come sleep with him when she not only prefers curling up by Bambam's small feet, but also hasn't left the 3-year-old's side since he caught the flu at the beginning of the week.

Mark's confusion turns to mild worry when he grabs his phone from the nightstand and it blinks back a bright 1:47 AM. It's only been a couple of hours since he tucked Bambam into bed, having stayed a good hour by his side as he softly soothed his son with the lullabies his mother used to sing to him back when Mark was a scrawny little kid growing up in California. He was definitely no Jaebum, his own voice too deep and low compared to Jaebum's clear honeyed tenor, but although it had taken some time and lots of restless tossing and turning, Bambam had eventually fallen into a deep slumber. The only reason Mark had even left Bambam's side instead of sleeping in his room this time, despite how cramped his legs got in his son's tiny kid-sized bed, was because taking care of a sick child all alone had caused him to drop the ball on his own paperwork. Paperwork he can now see spread out on Jaebum's side of the bed, having been forgotten yet again when Mark had given in to the exhaustion and fallen asleep without finishing it.

Nora mewls at him, curling back up and against him when he strokes her back and pecks her between her ears to calm her down. Mark gets up slowly, movement still lethargic and grabs Jaebum's pillow - the one he has been using since Jaebum left almost two weeks ago and that still mysteriously retained traces of his minty shampoo and musky scent - and places it by Nora's side, knowing she misses him as much as Mark and Bambam do. The floor is warm under his feet and Mark doesn't bother putting slippers on, taking the pile of documents he had been filling out and placing it on his dresser before slipping out of the room and into Bambam's.

He stops at the sight of the empty bed as he enters the room, brows furrowing further when he notices Bambam's Mike Wazowski slippers are still at the foot of the bed.

"Bam?" Mark calls out, moving to check besides the wooden bed-frame, then opening the door to the attached bathroom even though the lights are off. "Bambam-ah?"

 _He probably went to get water,_ Mark thinks as he makes his way into the hall, suddenly agitated. A familiar feeling starts building in his chest, the same irrational fear that twists and turns his insides and settles at the back of his head whenever Jaebum doesn't pick up his phone right away and his brain starts conjuring the worst case scenarios, or when strangers ask a question too many about Bambam's biological parents and Mark clamps up, afraid they are probing because they want to take his kid away.

He has always considered himself a very level-headed person, but whenever it concerns those two Mark feels as if all his rational goes flying out the window and is instead replaced by this persistent worry that something or someone is going to snatch them away from him. Even if he's inside the safety of their condominium and it makes absolutely no sense.

"Bam—" Mark starts to call out again but then stops, because just as he reaches the threshold that connects the hallway to the living room his eyes catch the dimmed glow of the kitchen light from across the room and his ears pick up the delicate clicking of metal against porcelain. But what makes his breath hitch in the darkness of the room is the faint humming that drifts in, the sound of a voice that he knows better than the beat of his own heart. Mark's feet carry him towards the noise in long strides, chest tightening to the point it leaves him breathless. His heart pounds against his rib-cage and Mark doesn't need to look at the suit jacket draped over the back of the couch or the grey luggage by the vestibule to know who is home.

His footsteps must be loud because just as Mark enters the kitchen Jaebum turns to look at him, eyes softening and a tired smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he takes in Mark disheveled self. Jaebum's white dress shirt is wrinkled beyond belief, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms as he stirs a cup of tea with one hand and supports Bambam's weight with the other. The three-year-old is wrapped around his torso like a baby koala, hair sticking every which way and with his little face buried in the crook of Jaebum's neck. The Captain America t-shirt Mark had put him in before bed looks damp and he is missing one of his socks, but Mark's too caught up in the fact that Jaebum's here to notice just yet. Jaebum's home.

"Did I wake you?" Jaebum whispers, eyes drifting down his husband's features and moving briefly towards the softness of his lips before Jaebum drags them back up and meets Mark's gaze. Mark's heart is still hammering shallowly against his chest, having been caught completely off guard.

"You said Friday," Mark breathes instead once the shock has worn off, brows furrowing as he notices the dark circles under Jaebum's eyes that Mark is sure mirror his own. They had talked in the morning, a quick call he'd snuck in as he dropped Bambam off at Jackson's for the afternoon in order to go check things at the company. Mark hadn't expected him until three days from now, but now it dawns on him that Jaebum must have been at the airport when he had called him considering London is anything but close to Seoul. No wonder he had been reluctant to FaceTime even though video-chatting had become routine since the day he had left.

Jaebum must follow his train of thoughts because he chuckles, hugging Bambam close with both arms and turning to lean a hip against the kitchen counter. Their son snuffles against Jaebum's neck and tightens his hold on him in response, and the sight of them makes Mark's heart ache with love.

"He woke up?" Mark asks before Jabeum can reply, taking in the way Bambam is tucked in carefully under Jaebum's chin.

"Hmm, for a bit." Jaebum replies, focused on Mark's figure as he walks barefoot into the kitchen, smiling when Mark gives him a pointed albeit affectionate look for lying but still leans next to Jaebum against the edge of the counter, running his hand through the mess of hair at the back of Bambam's head. Jaebum watches the movement of his hand as Mark combs his fingers through the toddler's brown threads, and when he meets Mark's eyes the warm in them leaves him a little breathless again. It's been almost a decade since they've been together, but the tenderness that seeps through Jaebum's eyes in moments like these always leaves Mark feeling a little hazy with warmth. "We finalized the expansion yesterday. Youngjae offered to stay back to tie up loose ends so I just caught the first flight back."

Mark hums in comprehension. That's definitely something Youngjae would do. He was still a bit young and green when it came to corporate law, but the kid had proven himself again and again whenever it came to the logistics that went behind finalization of their company's projects. Still, Mark had grown incredibly fond of the younger man and his sunny disposition, and the thought of leaving the 26 year-old all by himself in a foreign country (albeit still with their team) made Mark feel uneasy. He had come to think of Youngjae as a very dear pupil and friend, and anything that might result in his discomfort was not something Mark could accept.

He trusted Jaebum more than anything, but this was still a big project, one that lead to Jaebum traveling back and forth between London and Seoul for the past six months (though the trips were never as long as this final one). It had only been a little over a year since Jaebum's father had initially mentioned to them that he planned to retire soon, and this was the biggest project Jaebum had helmed on his own since this. He knew Youngjae was more than capable but Mark had also spoken to his subordinate before he had left with Jaebum for their trip. While the younger man had been exuding his everpresent optimist like he always did, Mark could tell he had been nervous to be part of such an important merger. The presence of Mr. Im's trusted advisors was reassuring, but they were only there to iron out the metaphorical wrinkles. Jaebum's team was till leading the entire deal, and any mistakes that might appear in the future would still fall on their shoulders.

It was in moments like these that Mark wished he hadn't taken a step back from the company - not because he didn't trust Jaebum's judgement, or that of those working under him, but because he didn't like putting his own team in such tough situations in the first place.

Mark tucks Bambam's shirt down from where it rid up his back within the bundle of Jaebum's arms, biting his lip as he tries not to worry. Jaebum must notice the furrowing of his brows because he tsks affectionately, the tips of his fingers gracing Mark's wrist as he finishes fixing Bambam's shirt. "Jinyoung's on his way there right now," he adds. "Don't worry."

"Could've told me that before," Mark sighs with relief, crossing his arms as Jaebum chuckles. Hearing Jinyoung's name puts Mark at ease. If there was anyone within their circle who handled international dealings with an iron fist, well, it was definitely Jinyoung. 

"Did you really think I'd leave him alone? Even then you need to give him more credit, Mark-ya. Youngjae knows what he's doing." Mark grumbles as a reply, catching the twinkle in Jaebum's eyes as Mark's slight frown turns into a yawn that has him covering his mouth with a sweater paw. The steaming cup of tea sitting on the counter smells too delicious to resist, so Mark reaches over to grab it.

"You are talking like I'm the one who spoils him," Mark bemuses, smiling as he blows on the tea when Jaebum gives him a bewildered look. Because it's true. While Mark has an incredibly big soft spot for the younger man, Jaebum is the one who is actually overprotective, viewing Youngjae as a sugorate brother. Although unlike Mark, Jaebum's protective brother instincts manifested in different ways. Instead of shielding him, Jaebum had a knack of taking Youngjae anywhere and everywhere, finding pride in his capabilities and quick growth within their company. Jackson had once laughed at his friend's behavior, commenting on how Jaebum had the habit of taking people under his wing and treating them like ducklings.

"I don't spoil him!"

"Uuuuh, yeah you do." 

"No I don't—" Mark raising his eyebrows questionably shuts Jaebum up. Mark can't help but chuckle at the pout that starts playing on Jaebum's lips as he cuddles Bambam closer, childishly defensive. "Okay, okay _fine_ , maybe a little. But it's not like _you_ are any better."

Mark takes a sip, feeling the charm chamomile and clover honey warm him from the tips of his fingers down to his toes. "I know," he says against the rim of the mug, taking in the soft scent of flowers. "But he's a good kid." And they both knew working in the corporate world had its way of tainting good hearts...

The ticking of their kitchen clock resonates in the quietness of the room as Mark hold the cup between both hands, taking in the tired lines of Jaebum's face, the dip of his nose and the gentle curve of his lips. His heart hurts at the way Jaebum's lids seem to weight down with fatigue with each passing minute. Mark can tell the way his project has been taking a tole of his husband, but he also knows he can't do anything else but be there for him. They both have their own battles with this transition, some bigger than others.

They knew it wasn't going to be easy. In fact, it was only going to get harder from here. But they had overcome a lot together over the years, and Mark had no doubt this daunting new future was not going to be any different.

Jaebum hums in agreement as Mark takes another sip of the tea, but then Jaebum reaches over for the mug, tightening his grip on Bambam to support his weight on one hip.

" _My_ tea," he quips, pointing the tip of his tongue towards Mark much to his husband's amusement. But right as Jaebum is about to take a sip Bambam stirs in his arms, grumbling in protest before lifting his little head to look at Jaebum with adorably bleary eyes. Mark bites his lip to stop himself from breaking out into a grin at the way Jaebum visibly melts at the sight of his sleepy son.

"Appa?" Bambam mumbles drowsily, sniffling as he struggles to keep his eyes open. Jaebum smiles down at him, nuzzling Bambam's cheek.

"Yes sweetheart?" The sound of his voice seems to wake up the toddler a bit because Mark watches Bambam's eyelids flutter open, recognition downing in his eyes before he jumps in Jaebum's arms and buries his face into his chest.

"Appa..." Bambam says pitifully, as if not fully believing Jaebum is here.

"I'm right here," Jaebum reassures him, kissing the top of Bambam's head.

"Not leaving?" Mark hears the toddler ask into Jaebum's shirt. Jaebum looks up to meet Mark's gaze and Mark smiles back at him wistfully, noticing the hint of sadness that passes through Jaebum's gaze before he puts the mug down gently to card his fingers through his son's messy hair. It wasn't easy for Mark, but he knew it was no better for Jaebum. Mark knew Jaebum felt guilty for being gone for so long, especially after Bambam had thrown a tantrum last time Jaebum had been away for more than a week, crying himself to sleep in Mark's lap as Jaebum had sang him to sleep through the phone. Bambam wasn't usually a fussy kid, but whenever he realized either Mark or Jaebum were gone for a full day rather than a few hours he seemed to get very anxious, nothing like his loud carefree self. The only exception seemed to be when he was too immersed playing with his friend Yugyeom - a blessing on days both Mark and Jaebum needed to go to the company, though one always made it back as soon as possible - or when Jackson and Jinyoung took him out for a day long trip and returned him sleepy but smiling from ear-to-ear.

"No... I'm not going anywhere."

(Mark tries not to think of Bambam's first few nights in their home and how he used to wake up frightened and running into their arms in a frenzy - or how, after the adoption agency had disclosed every single detail in his file, Mark had burrowed within Jaebum's arms and cried himself raw.)

Bambam's sudden fit of coughing snaps Mark out of his thoughts, prompting him to slip out of the kitchen and into his son's room to retrieve his sippy cup. When he returns, adjusting the cap to make sure the little compartment with the medicine is secure, Bambam is whining as Jaebum tries to sooth him, whispering a string of "It's okay, you are okay" into Bambam's hair as he rubs circles on his back tenderly. 

"Daddy," Mark hears Bambam call to him, voice muffled on Jaebum's shoulder. Mark's brows furrow in worry as he presses his palm against Bambam's forehead, sighing in relief when he notices no fever. Jaebum's protective but calm hold around Bambam reassures Mark, especially as the gentle touch of Jaebum's palm seems to help ease away the coughs. 

"Here, I'll give him his medicine," Mark whispers as he makes to scoop up Bambam from Jaebum's arms, but Jaebum just shakes his head, taking the sippy cup from Mark's hand's instead.

"It's okay. I'll do it."

"Jaebum—"

"Mark," Jaebum reproaches softly, because even if Jaebum just finished an overseas trip, it's Mark whose been struck with a sick toddler alone for almost a week, running on little to no sleep while still attending to every other emergency call from the company because he's still the main point of contact when Jaebum or Jinyoung are not immediately accessible. He knows full well the exhaustion is starting to show on his face. Mark sighs, giving Jaebum a tired but grateful smile when his husband taps Mark's cheek with his knuckle, letting the back of his hand linger against the slope of Mark's jaw. "You should go rest, I've got him."

He doesn't go though. Mark just can't. Not when Bambam is still whimpering against Jaebum's chest, little hands fisted in his dress shirt. Instead he walks with Jaebum to their living room with the warm cup of tea in his hand, curling up on the opposite side of the couch as he watches Jaebum coax their son to take small sips from the baby blue bottle. Mark tries to blink away the exhaustion as Jaebum wipes away the few frustrated tears that roll down Bambam's cheeks when he can't fall asleep because his throat hurts, tracing the outline of Jaebum's hand in the dim light as he pushes back the hair on Bambam's forehead and consoles him quietly. 

"I don't like it," Bambam hiccups miserably, tears clinging to his eyelashes as he presses his face into Jaebum's palm. His fingers curl around Jaebum's sleeve as he lets out a small, sleepy sob that makes Mark's heart ache. 

"I know, Bam-ie," Jaebum tells his softly, kissing his temple as Bambam shuffles closer to his father, "Come here."

The cup of tea sits forgotten on their mahogany coffee table. Mark closes his eyes for the briefest moment when Jaebum starts to hum, letting the familiar timbre of Jaebum's voice soothe him like it does Bambam in his husband's arms, who calms down and blinks sleepily against Jaebum's chest. Mark moves to pull the sleeves of his sweater down his hands, tucking his toes under Jaebum's thighs and smiling when his husband groans dramatically at the coldness that seeps past his slacks.

"What are you, made of ice?" Jaebum complains half-heartedly, but one of hands leaves Bambam's back to curl around Mark's right ankle, thumb stroking along the softness of Mark's skin.

Mark smiles as an answer, leaning his head against the back of the couch as he watches Bambam's breaths even out, heart fluttering pleasantly in his chest when their son's eyes start drooping and Jaebum leans back against the couch, moving his hand slowly to cup Bambam's head where it lays above his beating heart.

"Sing?" Mark whispers in the quietness of the room, wanting to move closer to bask in Jaebum's body heat but stopping himself because this is the first time in days Bambam has drifted into a restful slumber so quickly and he doesn't want to disrupt it in any way. When Mark looks up his eyes meet Jaebum's over Bambam, and the look in them sends another surge of warmth that have Mark's cheeks tinting with pink. Mark smiles at him as he lets his own eyes drift close, taking in the sound of Jaebum's voice.

Jaebum lets his gaze roam over the softness of Mark's features, eyes pools of tender longing as he does his best to keep the weariness from long days out of his voice and croons the two pieces that complete his heart to sleep.

 

Mark doesn't realize when Jaebum gets up to put Bambam to bed, falling into a deep albeit short-lived slumber. He does wake up, however, when the couch dips under Jaebum's weight when he comes back. The heat of his palm is welcoming against the cool skin of Mark's cheek, the touch of his calloused fingertips familiar and comforting. Mark lets himself indulge in the moment before blinking his eyes open. 

"Hi." Jaebum smiles down at him, thumb dipping to caress the corner of Mark's mouth.

"Hey," he grins drowsily back at Jaebum, feeling his bangs being pushes back. One of the tall lamps in their dining room must be on, because a corner of the living room is bathed in the softest gold. It's not bright enough to catch on the red of Jaebum's hair, but it lights up his strikingly sharp features and the tired lines marring his face. Mark reaches out to trace them with his fingers, heart skipping a beat when Jaebum leans into his touch. 

"Not gonna call me a liar?" 

"Mmm, I'll forgive you this time. Bam' asleep?"

"Out like a light," Jaebum chuckles as he nuzzles his husband's hair, resting his knee on the couch next to Mark's thigh.

"Nora took up the rest of the bed, didn't she," Mark states good-humoredly, snickering when he feels the nip on his earlobe.

"I think she's found herself a new favorite human."

"You still got me." Mark pulls Jaebum's wrist to tug him down, close,  _closer,_ until Mark can feel Jaebum's breath ghosting against his curved lips and the heat of his husband's strong body pressing him back against the couch. 

The kiss is warm and languid, deep but still innocent as Jaebum leans over Mark's body, caging him against the couch as he supports his own weight with one arm on the backrest. The other hand tangles delicately into the hair at Mark's nape as Jaebum moves away from his mouth to kiss the apples of Mark's cheeks, down to the sharp outline of his jaw until his lips are flush against Mark's neck.

"You're biased too," Jaebum complains in between peppering butterfly kisses. 

Mark laughs breathlessly, feeling the scruff of Jaebum's stubble scratch against his collarbone. He brings Jaebum closer, pulling him by the bicep until Jaebum is fully on the couch, legs tangled comfortably with Mark's in the small space.

"Missed you," Jaebum murmurs against his lips before kissing Mark again, moving his hand to tilt Mark's head just right. Even though Mark has been here all along, kissing Jaebum feels like they are truly both home. Here. With Bambam and little Nora dozing away in a room close by. This place they have made their own in the last half decade. Whenever Jaebum is gone it feels far too empty, like the white walls are too pristine and the lights painfully bright. The clatter of Bambam playing in the living room and the soft thuds of his footsteps during the morning fills the void sometimes, but at night the loneliness seeps into Mark's bone more often that's not, as the lack of warmth from Jaebum's side of the bed reminds him starkly of his absence.

Now in the quietness of the night Mark wraps his arms around Jaebum's shoulders, clutching the wrinkled cotton underneath his fingertips as he hums contently against Jaebum's lips. He feels Jaebum's mouth curve against his own as he moves back to let them both breathe, desire simmering in his tired gaze as he looks at Mark beneath him.

"Did you get any sleep at all?" Mark asks him, biting his lip at the feverish look in Jaebum's eyes. They close when Mark traces the tips of his nails down the back of Jaebum's neck, liking the shiver that goes up Jaebum's body at his touch.

"Two hours... I think? I dunno, I— Sungjin-hyung conference called me during layover..."

Mark's brows furrow in confusion. _I thought your father was still taking care of things in Busan,_ he wants to say, but he doesn't have to because Jaebum notices the difference in his silence within seconds, tensing in his arms. 

"He still wanted me to take care of it," Jaebum murmurs, tracing his thumb behind Mark's ear distractedly. The heat behind his gaze subdues and is instead replaced with that ever present trepidation that settles behind Jaebum's eyes whenever it comes to his father. Mark sighs beneath him, searching Jaebum's eyes with his own worried gaze. 

He doesn't want to think about the implications of Mr. Im's request right now, doesn't want Jaebum to think about it either - not when they are both coming apart at the seams from exhaustion and Bambam is still sick. They can figure it out together, but not right now.

Right now Mark breathes in and focuses solely on the familiar hum beneath his skin, on the slowly surging warmth that sings deep in his blood at having Jaebum close. The fatigue of the last few days weights both their bodies down, so instead of reaching up to kiss Jaebum's worries away like he would do any other day, Mark cups the back of his husband's head and guides him to rest his cheek against Mark's chest, maneuvering their bodies to lay side by side on the couch.

 _You have me,_ he tells Jaebum by pressing him securely against the back of the couch and smiling when he feels Jaebum circling his arms tightly around Mark's waist. _I'm here_. 

"I wish I could make love to you right now," Jaebum mumbles absentmindedly against Mark's sweater. He combs his fingers through Jaebum's hair, scratching his nails against his scalp and feeling Jaebum melt against him, each coil of tension slowly coming undone from his shoulders at Mark's touch. 

"Says the man who can't even keep his eyes open," Mark teases, chuckling when Jaebum grumbles sleepily, nudging his forehead against Mark's collarbone. 

"I'd make it work," Jaebum tries to growl playfully, but sleep is already taking him and it ends up muffled and sounding like a purr.

Mark smiles into his hair, letting his free hand stroke up and down the wide expanse of Jaebum's back. He feels the brush of Jaebum's eyelashes against his skin, feels the gentle rise and fall of his body as Jaebum's breaths start evening out. A blanket of tranquility wraps itself around them, warming them to the bones as Jaebum snuggles closer, lulled by his husband's heartbeat. And as Mark's own eyes start drifting shut, the last thought on his mind is how utterly complete he feels. 

He's home. 

 


	2. warm me up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He says it first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is mature.

 

Jaebum's used to waking up alone. He's used to the soft caress of silk sheets against his cheek, used to the smell of clean linen and the warmth of his cashmere-lined comforter on bare skin. What he isn't used to is being woken up by a cold breeze on his exposed calf, the hint of a chilly wind that makes him tuck his leg back and burrow underneath the heat of his duvet. His eyes flutter open, groggy and ladden with sleep, and he turns to look at the empty pillow and the rustled bed sheets next to him.  
  
Jaebum's used to waking up alone, but nowadays... nowadays he is getting used to not doing it as often anymore.  
  
He's getting used to the warmth of a body next to his beneath the covers, and the subtle rise and fall of a back against his chest. Nowadays instead of crisp cotton reminding him of home, it's the fragrance of a musky cologne on the expanse of a pale neck - the still unfamiliar but achingly inviting feeling of delicate fingers running through his hair. The quiet solace of his apartment remains, unhindered and ever welcoming on bone-tiring days, but Jaebum's learning quickly that he prefers the soft clatter of someone else there, likes how the sacrility of silence remains despite the sighs and laughter that fill the rooms every now and then.  
  
Another breeze touches the warm skin of his cheek, and that's when Jaebum realizes it's coming from the open balcony door on the opposite side of the room. He moves within the makeshift cocoon of his blankets, resting his head on an outstretched arm as he rubs his eyes. It's still a bit dark in the room, but as he blinks Jaebum can make out the sway of the curtains in the morning wind.  
  
Mark's figure is but a grey silhouette below the muted blues of the pre-dawn outside, all but a shadow past the glass balcony doors that overlooking the skyscrapers of a slowly waking Seoul. It's far too early for Jaebum, but sleep escapes him anyway, drifting away as he takes in the graceful lines of Mark's back, lingering on the red patches that decorate the slope of his spine. He smiles at the sight, watching Mark lean an arm on the railing and take a drag of the cigarette in his right hand. Jaebum can't see his face but he can see the curls of smoke that escape past his lips, silvery tendrils that dance and dissipate into thin air.  
  
He's wearing blue sweats that don't belong to him, cloth hanging low on his hip bones and contrasting starkly against the milken white of his skin. Jaebum can't look away.  
  
Mark's not his boyfriend, even if the extra toothbrush in Jaebum's bathroom cabinet says otherwise. They aren't dating, even if Jaebum's restless tossing and turning on nights Mark's on a flight back tell a different tale. There isn't a name for what they are, stuck too far from innocence for it to be a mere ' _some'_ and too close to earnest greed for an ' _office_ _romance'_. Labels have always been a game Jaebum has not found worth playing, but he is neither ignorant nor oblivious to his own wants.  
  
Because at twenty-five Jaebum's experienced a heartbreak too many to not be able to place emotions into the boxes where they belong, and even though the feeling that blooms is his chest is much different this time - more visceral and untamed than the pure white of his firsts, more warm and rose gold than the burning reds of his seconds and thirds - it's still one he knows. He can feel it even now, as he watches a delicate shiver run up Mark's spine and the way he brings his arms closer to ward off the cold, that tingling that spreads from his core to the tips of his fingers whenever Mark is close but not close enough.  
  
He's never felt so reckless, so far gone for someone who fills his mind with more questions than there are answers for - because despite Mark's soft gazes and lingering smiles, Jaebum still doesn't know what the foreigner hopes the future to hold.  
  
The uncertainty doesn't stop Jaebum from getting off the bed leisurely, eyes fixated on Mark's figure as he stretches out his limbs and feels the goosebumps rise on his honey-toned skin. It doesn't stop him from grabbing the throw blanket tossed on the armchair either, or from wrapping it around his shoulders as he moves towards the glass doors.  
  
There was once a time Jaebum used to hate the scent of smoke. He had detested the way it stuck unpleasantly to the walls of his throat the first time he'd tried a puff, despised how those in his viscinity seemed to find comfort in its poison rather than the disdain Jaebum felt every time he saw someone open a box. It's perplexing really, that the taste and smell of nicotine no longer seem to burn him - even more surprising is the way how, in moments like these, it makes a warmth churn at the pit of Jaebum's stomach, creating a pleasant heat that spreads down to his exposed feet. Maybe it's the brand Mark chooses to smoke (at least the one he chooses to smoke around Jaebum, knowing his discomfort with his own personal vice), stick a mixture of seductive firewood and musk. Sometimes Jaebum thinks it might even be the way the sweetness of Mark's mouth overpowers the subtle taste of fire on his lips, like a lingering reminder of everything that he is and Jaebum still wants.  
  
Jaebum smiles as he moves quietly into the balcony, walking the short distance to gather Mark into his arms and pull the corners of the blanket around their bodies. The older man startles for a brief second before relaxing against him, chuckling breathlessly as the contrast of their skins makes Jaebum hiss petulantly into his hair. Mark takes half a step back to crowd into the warmth of the blanket, quivering pleasantly when the movement frees one of his pale shoulders and Jaebum bends down to nuzzle it sleepily. He smells like sweat and sex and expensive nicotine and it shouldn't be so sinfully attractive but it is and Jaebum's heart aches with longing.  
  
"I thought you hated the cold?" Jaebum mumbles after a few heartbeats, moving the blanket so Mark can free his hand and move the stick back between his lips.  
  
"M'used to it I guess?" Jaebum can't see the expression of his face, but he can hear the smile as Mark rests the cigarette against the curve of his lips. The smoke swirls out in perfect circles this time, and the laugh that bubbles out of him at Jaebum's unamused grunt - what a insufferable show-off - is so innocent Jaebum almost forgets the feel of his naked skin beneath the blanket. His laugh is just so different from everything else Mark shows the world, high pitched and almost childlike, light like the soft whistle of a teapot promising heat on a rainy day.  
  
The first time Jaebum heard it, back when they were still only tentatively cordial to each other due to their mutual relationship with one delightfully entertained Park Jinyoung, he had stopped and stared with something akin to awe. It had caught him off guard to see Mark so unrestrained, head thrown back and face adored with a smile that showed his gums, when all Jaebum got to see during meetings was a silent but keenly aware corporate lawyer that knew more than he ever let on, polite but restrained until he was behind closed doors to share the weight of his opinions. He had frozen and gazed at Mark intently as the older man laughed, only coming to his senses when Jinyoung - who'd elicited the response in the first place - had pointently cleared his throat at Jaebum's blatant staring. If Mark had noticed the weight of his stare he hadn't let it on, though the pink dusting the top of his ears had told Jaebum otherwise.  
  
Now he stood on the balcony of his apartment with the same man bundled up in his arms, burrowing his nose in Mark's silken hair as they enjoyed the morning breeze above the listless noise of the city. The comfort of the blanket is nothing compared to the heat of Mark's body against his own, muscular and strong but soft, so soft, and it's almost enough to lull Jaebum back to sleep right there - if it weren't for the chilly breeze that blows every now and then against his exposed skin. He grumbles drowsily and steps closer to Mark, feeling his laugh reverbrating between them more than hearing it as he tries to protect himself from the wind by wedging the bottom of his legs in between Mark's covered ones.  
  
They could go back inside and enjoy the view from the comfort of his bed, order breakfast and actually enjoy it because it's so early and for once they have nowhere to be yet, but Mark looks so at peace here Jaebum can't bring himself to complain. Their days are always so frantic - his own scheduled to minute perfection - moments like these are rare and far in between. So Jaebum stays, rubbing his free hand up and down the expanse of Mark's still cold arm under the blanket and ignoring the way his heart skips a beat at the way Mark tries to hide a smile behind the cigarette at his touch.  
  
(He had thought, initially, that Mark was very similar to himself, straightforward and stoic to a fault - as desensitized as Jaebum considering their line of work. People their age worried about making a living, not where it would be best to invest the next millions, and even though Mark had not been born into wealth the way Jaebum had, he still came from a family with its own prestige. But it didn't take him long to learn that past their knack for unrelenting honestly were two vastly different outlooks on life. Unlike Jaebum, who hid behind a well placed mask of politeness and etiquette, only letting it slip in the presence of those he held dear to his heart, Mark was not one to shy away from the unfamiliar. Behind the silent and reliable observer was someone who was incredibly generous with his smiles.)  
  
It really is far too early. The first traces of orange are starting to bleed into the greys and blues of the sky, shining on the glass panels of the buildings around them as Jaebum rests his head against Mark's and looks past the railing towards the streets far below. There are cars already starting to crowd the streets, but the sidewalks are all but bare. In an hour or so they will be littered with commuters rushing to and fro - salarymen and women in leather shoes and brand name heels, students running late as they speed towards the subway entrance to catch their train. There will be children holding the hands of their parents as they look around them with unrestrained awe, and elders and couples and everyone in between.  
  
Sometimes, when there isn't a meeting first thing in the morning or a superior hot on his heels for one thing or another, Jaebum likes pretending he is one of the many. He likes sneaking past his befuddled driver and blending into the amassing crowds, the sweet tunes of his favorite playlist ringing loud through his headphones. The first time he'd taken the subway to the high-rise their corporation called home, back when he was still ill-tempered and young enough for the elders of the family to blame everything on his age, he'd missed his stop and gotten lost. The stern looks and scolding that followed did little to deter him from his random escapades. Even as the years took away his rebellious streak and replaced it with the weight of stones on his shoulders, Jaebum let himself have this one thing.  
  
And that's also why he knew the warmth blooming in his chest wasn't an illusion, because Mark knew and Mark understood. At first he'd frowned in confusion as Jaebum grabbed his hand one morning and weaved him through the crowds, searching his eyes curiously as Jaebum looked behind them to make sure no one had followed - but as they had piled into the train cart and gotten pushed into a corner by the people entering behind them, each too absorbed in their own world to recognize the Gucci on their bodies or Roger Dubuis and Cartier on their wrists, Mark's eyes had melted into soft realization as they looked up to meet Jaebum's.   
  
Nothing needed to be said, because the amused smile that had broken out on Mark's face and the way he had stolen one of Jaebum's earphones had been answer enough.  
  
Maybe it's the thought of that smile that prompts Jaebum to speak. 

"You should transfer to Seoul."  
  
He knows Mark's heard him because the cigarette rests against his lips but he doesn't take the smoke in. There is a brief moment in which Jaebum thinks his heart must have stopped beating because all he can hear is the sharp exhale that escapes past Mark's lips, all he can feel is the slight tremble of the body pressed against his own. Time seems to stand still for an eternity, but then Mark's turning within the circle of his arms and leaning back against the railing, and although the tilt of his head is innocent enough his questioning gaze has Jaebum looking away a bit too hastily for it not to mean anything.   
  
"Why?"  
  
_Because I want you to._  
  
_Because I need you here._  
  
"Wouldn't it be easier?" Jaebum says instead, focusing on how the blanket keeps slipping off Mark's pale shoulder. He grabs the edge and moves it back over Mark's bare skin to guard him from the wind, letting his fingers linger on the gold chain hanging from Mark's neck as he looks up to meet the older man's gaze. It's nerve wrecking to think Mark can see past it all. But it's also exhilarating. Jaebum feels _seen_. For once. "You're crashing at Jackson's indefinitely anyway. This project's taking forever. Just get your own place."  
  
_Or move in with me._  
  
There is a twinkle in Mark's eyes, as if he heard the words loud and clear although they were left unsaid. It's a selfish request and Jaebum knows it. Seoul is not Mark's home, nor is the language his mother tongue, catching precariously on his lips when he speaks too fast or feels too out of his zone. He's got no family here, even if Jackson and Jinyoung and Jaebum make it feel like a second home. And even if Jinyoung likes joking that him and Jackson are all but Korean now, especially with Mark's ever growing love for the spicy cuisine, Jaebum can still see the longing in Mark's eyes when he calls home. He can hear it in the thoughtful silence that follows every time he hangs up the phone.  
  
Seoul isn't Mark's home but Jaebum can't help but feel the greed to have him close.  
  
The hint of a smile plays at the corner of Mark's lips as he replies, "It'll probably end by next week..." His cigarette stick is all but gone, the burning carmine tip dangerously close to the delicate skin between his index and middle finger.  
  
"Yeah?" Jaebum breathes out, feeling a tinge of selfish satisfaction at the lack of clear denial.   
  
"Mmm," Mark nods, taking the last puff as he pushes off the railing and steps back into the cocoon of heat, not bothering to hide his smile when the press of his body has Jaebum shivering in delight. Jaebum catches his eyes from behind matted bangs, feels the smoke dance against the slope of his jaw as Mark breathes out, enticing and silvery sweet. "They're caving already, the buyout from your father is too high. They know their asset turnover is shit so..."  
  
The stick falls to the ground, and if the lips warming the cooled flesh of Jaebum's neck weren't so hyptonizingly alluring he would definitely tell Mark off for littering. But right now his mind is clouded with want and Mark's fiery scent and all Jaebum can do is let him crowd into his arms. Beneath the blanket he can feel the familiar press of nimble fingers against the ridges of his torso, goosebumps rising as trimmed nails catch on his skin. The gentle dip of a thumb against his navel crumbles the little resolves he has left, but as Jaebum leans down to claim the soft mouth that taunts him a hand tangles in his hair and keeps him in place. Jaebum huffs breathlessly, feeling the mischievous curve of Mark's lips as he kisses up the sharp slope of his jaw. 

A cool hand curves against the naked jut of his hip. "Does it hurt...?" Mark asks, moving back to stare into Jaebum's eyes with a tenderness that knocks out what little air he still has in his lungs. Jaebum flushes at the memory of Mark's body moving against his.   
  
"Shut up," he breathes out petulantly, and this time he is the one letting go of the blanket to cup Mark's face in his hands, kissing away the smirk on his lips. Behind the smoke Jaebum can taste the saccharine sweetness of Mark's  tongue. He chases after it with stubborn determination, gentle but unrelenting until Mark's gasping against his mouth. He likes it. He likes leaving Mark as breathless as he makes Jaebum feel. 

It isn't until Mark's pushing him back and grabbing the edges of the blanket that Jaebum realizes the cloth is halfway off his body. The wind is still blowing, it's still cold, but Jaebum welcomes the stark contrast of it against his skin. He feels feverish under Mark's gaze, as he watches Mark wrap the ends of the blanket around him loosely but possessively. He knows the look in Mark's eyes, has it memorized for days he's alone and aching to have Mark close.  
  
"Not here," Mark whispers, and then he's pushing Jaebum until Jaebum's walking backwards to not stumble on his feet. They cross the balcony and the glass panels that connect it to the bedroom, and then the blanket is pooling by their feet and so are the blue sweats that slip off so easily from Mark's hips. 

His heart hammers against the brittle bones of his ridcage, asking to be let out. Jaebum wonders if Mark can feel it as  Jaebum presses him flush against the bed.   
  
He doesn't make love like Mark. He doesn't fuck like Mark either, who does so unforgivingly with an ardor that often leaves Jaebum aching sweetly for days. No. Jaebum sets a tantalizing slow pace, as if he's stringing together a promise between their bodies. He pulls Mark apart kiss by kiss as the orange overtakes the blue in the morning sky, letting the tips of his fingers dance along alabaster skin as he presses in to the hilt. Jaebum gives more than he takes, but he does so in gently crashing waves, pulling back whenever Mark wants him closer just so he drink in the hazy desire clouding Mark's eyes and hear the small groans of exasperation that keep slipping past his lips. Mark's a quiet lover, one that enjoys coaxing moans more than giving them, but right now he is faltering and it makes Jaebum feel greedy with uncontained need. 

He wants more. He wants everything Mark can give him. 

Because Jaebum's love for him is all-consuming, like the delicate flickering of a candlelight spreading into wildfire, and all he wants is for Mark to see. He wants Mark to feel the scalding hot blood that runs through Jaebum's veins as he makes him his, he wants Mark to take in the erratic beat of his heart and bottle it up in a jar to keep. He probably doesn't realize the power he holds, Jaebum thinks, watching the way Mark lifts the back of his arm off his eyes and reaches out to Jaebum in his daze, pulls him in impossibly close so he can moan wantonly into the crook of Jaebum's neck.  
  
Mark doesn't realize that he could break him with one word, tear Jaebum's entire body apart with his fingertips. Mark could take every bit that completes him and Jaebum would be okay with it - would be okay with being left to bleed if it meant Mark wanted it. 

Jaebum falters in his pace, suffocated and overwhelmed and scared beyond belief. He inhales. Exhales.

And then his heart stutters as he feels a butterfly kiss against his jaw and the soft pads of fingers tracing the delicate skin of his eyelids. Jaebum can feel Mark cup the back of his neck so he can bring Jaebum's forehead to rest gently against his own, and the warmth of Mark's palm as it curves on his cheek. A thumb brushes lightly over the tips of Jaebum's eyelashes as they flutter open, searching and timidly hesitant. 

"I love you," Mark whispers against his lips.

Jaebum thinks he's finally learnt how to breathe. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it :)  
> (Pardon the typos! I am trying my best to catch them!)


	3. our playfield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hint of something more.

 

Jaebum turned, looking up at Mark from the bottom step of the escalator.  
  
"We could just buy them out," he quipped, taking a sip of his coffee as he kept his eyes on Mark's. There was mischief there, a twinkle of of rebelliousness Mark was quickly becoming acquainted with as they days went by. Mark let out a chuckle, letting an amused smile tug at the corners of his lips as Jaebum leaned his arm against the handrail and hid a grin behind the plastic lid of his Starbucks cup.   
  
“That’s a _bad_ idea, Im,” Mark told him, far from surprised when a slight pout made its way to Jaebum’s lips. Who would have thought, a few months, that the executive director Mark had considered a royal pain in the ass for sticking so close to the rules would have such a mean streak when it come to pissing off the elders of his company? They’d clashed more times than Mark could possibly remember, went at each other so fervently during meetings it had Jinyoung failing to hide chuckles behind a closed fist more often that’s not - and yet here Mark was, walking out of a high rise in the middle of downtown Chicago after getting roped in by the same handsome asshole to take part in his latest deal.  
  
"How so?"  
  
"Paying seven million for them is gonna put your project in the red,” Mark tsked, stepping off the escalator to walk next to Jaebum. Mark added the rest in Korean, the language no longer lilted on his lips. “You sure you wanna pull that stunt just to outsource and piss off the oldies?” 

“Maybe?”

Mark tsked yet again. “Drop it.”   
  
Jaebum smirked as they made their way towards the glass doors, answering back in his mother tongue with ease, “Who said anything about outsourcing though?”

Mark narrowed his eyes. “What?”  

This time when Jaebum’s gaze met Mark’s there was something else behind the playfulness in them, a glint of something so vivid yet unfamiliar it made Mark blink hastily, confusion fluttering precariously within his ribcage as he let out a steady breath to clear his mind. 

“I’m not planning to outsource, _Mark_.” 

Mark frowned, stopping in the middle of the lounge and watching Jaebum halt along with him, a casual hand in his pocket as he looked at Mark with open, honest eyes. The people walked past them, around them, blurry figures neither of them paid any heed to as Mark searched Jaebum’s face with calculated professionalism. The scrutiny didn’t deter the ease of Jaebum’s posture, or the way he took a step closer to the American. 

 “You told me you wanted to expand the LA branch to Chicago,” Mark said carefully, unmoving even as Jaebum took another step towards him. It was not close enough to be deemed inappropriate, but definitely enough to be labeled as personal and somewhat misplaced within the confines of a business relationship. From here Mark could see the gentle curl of Jaebum’s eyelashes and the now familiar sight of the two moles above his sharp eyes. Eyes that stared at Mark with an intensity he couldn’t quite understand, unrelenting even as Mark looked away towards the glass doors. 

“I did.” 

Mark’s frown deepened. 

 “And you aren't going to outsource? What, are you going to absorb the additional cost? Im, I don’t—”

A hand reached out to touch the lapel of Mark’s open jacket. Mark looked down in mild surprise, following the movement of pale fingers as they graced the grey fabric of his suit. His breath faltered in bewilderment as Mark moved his gaze up a strong, pinstripe clad arm, a question in his eyes as he finally looked up. 

“Do you trust me, Mark?” Jaebum asked, stare heady even as he moved his hand away. 

_‘Fuck no’,_  Mark would have told him five months ago, middle finger up behind his back as he tried to stay civil for the sake of Jinyoung’s godforsaken merger. 

Now he simply stood there, pleasantly shell-shocked as he gave a sharp nod and began to decipher the glint of heat behind Jaebum’s eyes. 

“Then don’t call me Im,” Jaebum smirked. “Call me _Jaebum_.” 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this AU is still alive. No, I don’t think I will ever get around to writing JB’s name as “Lim Jaebeom”. Also yes, this is totally inspired by that recent pic of them by the escalator, heh.
> 
> Okay, now I gotta go binge watch Suits again :3


End file.
